روايات وقصص ضمن Dream Where Teeth Crumble

─❈─ AURELIA ─❈─ I jolt awake, screaming, clutching my chest. My eyes dart wildly around the room. Sunlight streaming through the curtain i left open the night before. “It’s just a dream… it’s just a dream…” I murmur it again and again, sweat trickling down my spine, beading on my forehead. I gasp through my teeth—shaking, panicking. It felt too real. I still see the fangs of that monster

The hairline fracture that changed the whole structure. I fell asleep before I expected to. The dreams were different than usual. No burning house. No little girl alone in a field. Just a kitchen that smelled like something I couldn't name, and two kids sitting on a counter, and my mother's voice running commentary on everything. I let it run.

Although Crystal was curled up in Nathan’s arms, she slept restlessly. This was due to a recurring, ongoing dream that she was having, where she was being chased. She couldn’t see who was behind her when she looked behind her, but she could hear their footsteps. It was dark in her dream, and she was barefoot. There were thorns and shards of broken glass on the floor, but she knew that she couldn’t let her pain impede her flight. She was panting and sweating, and her feet were cut and scraped, but she kept running. It was so bad that she was exhausted when she woke up, and her limbs were sore.

(Sammy's POV) I thought my night would be in my favor or better yet at last get some shut eyes; however, that wasn't the case when I kept on waking up in the middle of the night due to a horrible nightmare. I was dreaming of my new life as a wife, and I was in the kitchen cooking with white flour all over me, including my face. I was dressed like an old lady from the 60s with a head wrap. Kids were crying like bees swarming around me, yelling mommy we want food. Mommy, I want this and that. I couldn't handle the pressure looking at all the little kids who were obviously my children and the sight of it scared me as I began feeling dizzy. My head was spinning and the bowl of something I had in

We stuff our faces with chocolate covered strawberries and little squares of cake. Romie starts to say something, but a loud boom drowns out his voice. The earth shakes. Something falls on top of me. My knees hit the floor hard. Dust clogs my nose and throat. I stop talking. I can't recant the rest of my dream. I can't breathe. My head is spinning. The walls begin to close in on me. My heart is breaking. Tears fall down my face. "Remi, I need you to take a deep breath in then slowly let it out." Doctor Trenton rubs circles on my back; trying to soothe me. It's not working.

Another nightmare. I drag a hand over my face, trying to slow my breathing. But the images still claw at the edges of my mind. Blood. So much blood. A little girl screaming. And me… or something that feels like me… teeth bared, hands soaked red, the world shaking underfoot. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force the pieces to come together. But it’s always the same. Just when it feels like I might see the full picture, it all blurs into nothing.

What happened to Jace? Why was he covered in blood? Was he hurt? Dreams like this usually mean something. The night before my parents' car accident, I had a terrible nightmare—I dreamt my two front teeth fell out, blood pouring everywhere. I woke up crying hysterically. The next day, my parents were gone forever. A wave of panic hit me so hard I barely noticed Hayden watching me. It wasn't until he reached out and gently wiped the cold sweat from my forehead that I snapped out of it. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Cookie's standpoint I sighed as I rubbed my eyes, it pricked with an uncertain pa… Ah! Tears! I cried myself to sleep last night because I felt like shit, a completely worthless piece of shit. I would have slept good a little, but along the way, I had a nightmare about Ted killing mom and Carolyn and selling off Ursula. Then the dream changed, and his dick was chasing me until I fell into a pool of his sperm. That is the worst way to dream!

The entire night was filled with surreal and fragmented dreams—none of them forming a coherent story. In one of the dreams, Miranda cradled a chubby, smiling baby in her arms. Behind her stood a tall, gentle man, softly encircling her waist, quietly reminding her to watch her step. But when she turned to look at him, he vanished. All that remained was an endless field of wild grass, stretching as far as her eyes could see. No trace of the man, no one to turn to.